An Unexpected Acquaintance
by jazz4eva
Summary: Amethyst Cullen, daughter to Jacob & Nessie is repeating high school when the Cullen's move to London. The only problem? Amethyst isn't good with crowds. Lucky for her Mark seeks her out. But he isn't a human or a vampire. So what is he? Pls R&R! Rated T


**This story was written as a request, and to them I am sorry it took so long. This story is also a bit long for one chapter but it just didn't look right when I tried to divide it.**

**Basically, Renesmee and Jacob's daughter is repeating high school but this time she's going at it alone, and making friends isn't one of her strong points. Luckily for her another newby introduces himself, but something's not right. He doesn't seem… human, and he's not a vampire either. So what is he? Read on to find out.**

**Ok, that was a really bad introduction to my story and I promise you it is far more exciting than it sounded. Reviews are much appreciated!**

This day had started out badly and it just kept on getting worse. I trudged up the concrete pathway towards the main building through a foot deep layer of snow, feeling nothing but self pity. Irritably I cursed the gardeners for not clearing the area of the last snow fall.

My family and I had just moved to London from America, and I didn't fancy the change of climate and weather. From the moment the plane had landed, it had been snowing. Of course my family didn't mind for this permitted them to move around outside as they pleased, happy not to be trapped inside from the sun that made their skin sparkle. It had been Carlisle, my great grandfather's, idea for the move; he had lived here when he was a boy and had been eager to return. No one else had been all too keen on the idea, but the promise of cloudy skies had pushed them to agree. We had been living in New York and the sun had been out since we had moved there, forcing my family indoors.

Today was my first day at St. Hollies College and the bland cream buildings did nothing to improve my spirits.

The wind whipped ferociously around me, blowing tendrils of my short, bronze hair into my face. I yanked them away angrily and quickened my pace through the slush as a grumble of thunder issued from the blanket of black clouds overhead.

I reached the door and shoved it out of my way, anxious for a snow free zone. I had stepped into a wide hallway lined with cream coloured lockers, classroom doors breaking them into sections at regular intervals. At the end of the corridor was a flight of stairs that led to the next level. The hallway was packed with students chatting amongst their friends, catching up on the local gossip. Every person was dressed in the same uniform; long dark green, plaid skirt or long plain black pants, and a white shirt under a green knit sweater emblazoned with the school emblem. It was a sea of unflattering green, white and black. I could just imagine the look of distaste and horror displayed on Alice's – my great aunty and fashionista – face if she ever saw this. She'd given me enough grief this morning when I had descended the stairs in my brand new uniform. I laughed quietly to myself as I turned to the door labelled OFFICE in big, bold, black letters on the frosted glass. As it was my first day, I would need directions, but in actual fact I had already memorised the school map provided on their website and the class schedule that they had emailed me the day previous.

The office was small, made even smaller by the desk that divided it in half. The window on the opposite side of the room was draped with yellowing lace curtains, the walls were painted a pale green, and the floor was covered in a grey commercial carpet. The schools motto was painted on the wall behind the desk; Vincit Qui Se Vincit: meaning something along the lines of one who conquers oneself, conquers all. I noticed that they had tried to cheer the place up by placing plastic pot plants in every corner. If the uniforms had earned a horrified gasp then this room would have been the cause of Alice's death – not the easiest thing to do to someone who was already technically 'dead'.

My family is unusual in more ways than one. We are, for the most part, vampires, with my parents, Jacob and Renesmee, and myself as the only exceptions. Dad is a werewolf or a shape shifter; he can turn into a gigantic, russet furred wolf at will. My mother is a special case – although not quite as special as myself. Mom was conceived whilst her mother was still human; her father is a vampire. Mom's mother almost died giving birth to her, but her father transformed her mother into a vampire before that could happen. This left Mom as an abnormal case, rare but not unique. She is part human, part vampire. She aged at twice the speed of a normal child, her intelligence accelerating just as quickly as her size. She has a heartbeat though it is much faster than a human's, her skin is soft but indestructible, and she prefers the diet of blood rather than food. And she is also immortal, just like every other member of my family – forever trapped in the body of a sixteen year old.

Where does this leave me? I am part vampire, part human and part werewolf. You could say I am vampire with just a few human quirks; the heartbeat and liking of human food as well as animal blood. I can also read peoples thoughts, and see peoples' auras. My grandfather Edward also has the uncanny ability to read peoples' minds from distances of up to a mile away. Alice can see the future, Jasper, her husband, can manipulate your emotions, and Bella, my grandmother, can create a mental shield that keeps Edward and I from being able to see into her head.

I am also able to become a wolf at will, just like my father – although my fur is golden rather than his reddish colour.

'I'll be with you in just a minute, hon,' the woman manning the desk called to me, not looking up from the computer screen. The phone rang loudly. I willed my impatience not to get the better of me as I settled into one of the plastic chairs beside the door. The woman reached for the receiver with a ring encrusted hand.

'Hello, Jane Pearson from the St. Hollies College administration, how can I help you?' she spoke into the phone with a ring of majesty in her voice as though answering this call was the greatest honour. 'Just give me a second and I will pass you onto him.' She extended her hand towards the phone and pressed a button. 'Mr. Coventry? Mrs. Neil would like to speak to you about the arrangements for the booking of the hall.' She paused as she listened. I could hear the principal through the door at the other end of the room. 'Mm-hm. Ok, I'll pass that on.' She pressed another button on the phone. 'Mrs. Neil…? Yes, he's in a meeting at the moment. Would you be able to call back later? Oh, good. Thanks for the call Mrs. Neil. Ok, Bye.' She replaced the receiver and turned to look at me. Her eyes widened in surprise as they found my face.

Of course she would find me attractive; it was a hunting characteristic all vampires inherited when they were transformed – or in my case, born. It took her a while to recover as her eyes roved over my short bronze hair with natural black streaks, pale, flawless skin and then rested on my eyes. They were always cause for compliments as no one had ever seen anything like them before; vivid green that faded out to a chocolate brown.

The woman's thoughts were in a scramble and she had to give herself a little shake before she was able to address me in a coherent sentence.

'Are you the new student then? Miss… um… Miss…' She searched around her scattered thoughts for my name, but came up blank.

'Amethyst Cullen.'

'Oh, yes, that's right.' Her hands fluttered around the desk as she searched for the right papers. I stood up and moved to the counter. The woman, Jane, was tall and slim with her dark brown hair pulled back into a twirl that ended at the nape of her neck, showing off the pearls adorning her ears and neck. She wore a white blouse similar to the uniform under a black, pin striped jacket and matching skirt. Her lips were painted the same blood red as her finger nails and she had long, fake eyelashes glued to the lids of her flat brown eyes that brushed her cheeks when she blinked.

'Here we are,' she announced at last, picking up a folder and pulling three sheets from inside. She stood up so she could put them on the counter. She pointed to the first; a map, and pulled the second out from beneath it; the schedule of my classes. 'Now,' she checked my schedule, 'you have Chemistry first and that's in this building over here.' She traced a squiggly pattern across the paper, guiding me from the office to building number three. She continued giving me the best route from each class to my next. I grew impatient despite the fact that I had promised myself that I wouldn't let that characteristic show its ugly face today.

She finished with the schedule and proceeded to the only thing that had kept me from being rude by grabbing the sheets from her and stalking from the room; my locker assignment.

'Now, do you know how the lockers work?'

I nodded, but she went on to explain anyway.

Then, at last, at long last, I was free. I snatched the sheets from her and left the room. She uttered her good-luck to my retreating back. I hurried down corridor that was still packed with bodies, to the end where Jane had said my locker was the third from the end on the left. I unfolded the map that she had written my locker combination on and put the numbers into the padlock guarding my way. It worked – luckily, or otherwise I would have forced the lock open.

I swung my satchel off my shoulder and balanced it on one of the shelves in the little compartment. I unloaded my bag and placed my books on a shelf. Happy with my handiwork that had taken all of thirty seconds, I extracted my chemistry and maths books and my pencil case from the pile, closed the door and replaced the lock, twisting the little tiles so that no one would be able to access it – not that there was anything worth stealing in there.

I wasn't sure what to do with myself. I was only too aware of the increasing number of eyes that were lingering on my solitary figure. I could hear the people starting to whisper. I remembered where the toilets were on the map – finding them might be harder but I decided to try anyway: I hated any form of attention. I heard someone gasp as they watched me move with my ghostlike grace. I could see through their thoughts that I looked like I was floating rather than walking.

I made it to the bathroom without any drama. I ditched my books and stationary next to the basin and leant against the counter as I waited for my breathing to slow: this always happened whenever I was put in the spotlight. I gripped the edge of the sink and stared at my reflection in the mirror, at my wide eyes and brows set in a worried line.

_I can do this, _I told myself. _ It's only another school. You've done this a thousand times. _I had in actual fact repeated school three times: since vampires never aged, they were trapped at the age they had been transformed at. I had stopped maturing at sixteen. I was actually thirty-five.

_You can do this, _I repeated, achieving nothing. Where was Jasper when you needed him? But I knew exactly why I was acting this way. On all of the other occasions I had come to school, I had had not only Mom and Dad for company but Bella, Edward and his brothers and sisters, Emmett, Jasper, Alice and Rosalie, for support. This was my first time going at it alone since everyone else had decided that they wanted to go to college for a break from the monotony of high school. And I was scared stiff without them for company and support.

'Are you sure you'll be fine?' Mom had asked this morning in the garage, just as I was about to start the car.

'Yeah, it'll be a breeze,' I had answered. I had always been a good liar.

The bell rang just outside the door, startling me. I grabbed my books from the counter and hurried out of the bathroom, my heart going into a sprint in my chest, throbbing audibly against my ribs.

I was able to navigate my way through the corridors with practised ease – I had been in far worse. My chemistry class was on the second floor of building three, room 12. The door was open. I leant against the wall for a few seconds, attempting to get a hold on myself before I braved meeting the students inside. I took a deep breath and forced my feet to shuffle forward to the door.

It wasn't as bad as I had expected; I was one of the few students to arrive early to class. The four people already there were standing around and chatting to one another, waiting for class to begin. I hurried inside and moved to one of the stainless steel benches at the back: it would be harder for people to stare.

Students ambled in over the next few minutes, and took their seats on the tall stools at the other seven benches. There were two vacant seats beside me, but everyone seemed to have friends that they sat next to, so the seats, to my tremendous relief, remained unoccupied.

Last to enter was the teacher, a stout, balding man with a bright red beard shot through with grey reaching to the collar of his navy blue shirt. He waddled over to the teacher's desk to set down his books before addressing the class. Since it was the beginning of the school year, he started off stating his name, even though through the thoughts of my fellow students, most of them already knew him and had had him previously for science.

'Good morning, class!' he began cheerfully. 'My name is Mr. Owens.' He turned and scribbled it across the black board with brand new chalk that screeched in protest.

_We know, _a couple of students thought. Some sighed impatiently. Two girls – one at the back at the bench opposite me and one two rows in front of me – were new and seemed almost as nervous as myself. They both sat silently, staring up at the front.

'Now, I know quite a few of you. Joe Tippins, you were in my class last semester, as were Pamela Byrne and Daisy Alexandra.' He pointed each student out, either causing them to blush or groan quietly. 'But I see we have some new faces among us. Welcome new comer's!' he called, opening his arms wide in a gesture of greeting. His eyes lingered for a second on the two girls I had noticed before, and then me. Like the receptionist, his eyes widened, but he recovered before anyone noticed. All the same, half the class twisted in their seats to get a look at their new peers. I dropped my eyes to the desk and allowed my head to droop as gasp upon gasp escaped their owners' mouths as though they were struggling to breath. Indeed a few people did forget to exhale as they stared at me.

_Holy cow._

_Christ._

_Wow._

Their thoughts echoed through my head as though it was a cave or an empty room that they were yelling into, but the room was silent. Mr. Owens finally cleared his throat to call their attention back to him and the lesson he had in store for today. The class was slow to respond, their thoughts still centred on me.

_Well, there goes the lesson, _Mr. Owens thought, shooting an annoyed glance in my general direction as though he blamed me for inheriting the vampire's unnecessary and ludicrous traits of beauty and elegance.

The lesson passed slowly. I spent most of my time staring at the clock that seemed to function at half the speed it was designed to go. Thankfully, the lesson was only a single. I packed up my books just as the bell rang down the hall and stood up slowly. There was a lot of noise as the owners of the stools scraped them across the green linoleum and the chatter started up again. I was in a hurry to get to Maths, but I didn't want to be the first one out the door as that was a sure way to earn unwanted attention – not that I could receive much more attention than I was getting now.

All eyes were back on me, their holder's next classes forgotten momentarily.

_I should go talk to her, introduce myself and see what her next class is, _thought a boy standing in the row of tables in front of me. A lot of the boy's thoughts were heading down the same track.

Deciding that if I waited for the class to clear out I would never get out of here, I sucked up my courage and walked briskly down the aisle through the middle of the tables and out the door with my head down. Once out in the corridor, I felt a small sense of relief, but it was short lived; the whispering began again along with thoughts similar to the boys in my Chemistry class.

I found my way easily to the Maths room, again getting there before many people had had the chance. I could hear a lot of noise issuing from downstairs as students exchanged their first period books for their next subject from their lockers.

I felt that the seats at the back would become my permanent position in classrooms; with my family, we had always sat at the back. I had never once sat at the front if I had a choice.

I scribbled on the cover of my book that Alice had selected for me – black with large, hot pink polka-dots – as the rest of the class filed into their seats. I managed to ignore the shocked noises with more success.

This teacher strode into the class room five minutes after everyone was seated. He had an air of authority about him and he held himself proudly. Tall and rather skinny, he had jet black hair, a long nose and fashionable, frameless glasses that glinted in the weak light as he moved. He was a new teacher at the school from what I could tell from the thoughts around me. Only a few knew him by his name – Mr. Barratt.

Mr. Barratt commenced the class with having us line up in alphabetical order at the front of the class room, before ordering us to sit back down in that arrangement. My cheeks prickled as I took my seat in the middle of the front row; I was fourth on the roll.

'It's much easier to learn your names this way,' he had explained when a boy had grumbled about not being able to sit next to his friend. Mr. Barratt then gave him a detention for speaking out of turn. No one spoke again all lesson. But that didn't mean that they kept their thoughts on their work. Oh no, I was again in the spot light even if Mr. Barratt seemed immune to my beauty – which was fine by me.

Unfortunately, this lesson was not a single, and it felt as though night should have descended by the time the bell finally rang for lunch. There was a flurry of movement as everyone yearned to be out of Mr. Barratt's company: the boy who had been given the detention sulked at the back of the class room as his friend escaped to freedom.

I gathered my things slowly, unwilling to sit alone in the cafeteria, eating lunch brought from home and ignoring the stares. At least through the other repeats of school I hadn't been a loner.

I was preoccupied with my thoughts of abandonment and therefore didn't hear the boy's flash decision to escort me to the cafeteria.

'Hi,' came a voice beside me. I gave a start and looked around almost angrily – I was never taken by surprise. Beside me stood a tall, gangly boy with short, sandy hair that hung around his face and magnificent blue eyes that looked like bright jewels set in his freckly face. In a way, I thought he was actually kind of beautiful for a human. Now that I was paying attention, I listened to his thoughts – and was surprised to find that there was no admiration or surprise at my beauty. I was stunned but highly relieved; I had had enough attention for one day, perhaps even for a year. 'I'm Mark Driscoll.'

He held out his hand for me to shake. I hesitated. How would he react to my skin that felt like silk covered ice? The room was heated, but not to a degree that would change the temperature of my skin. I held my breath as I extended my own hand to grasp his.

Mark inhaled in a short huff at my cold touch but did not withdraw his hand. I ended the hand shake as quickly as I thought polite.

'I'm Amethyst Cullen,' I told him quietly, looking away to the white board as my face prickled.

'Well, it's very nice to meet you.' He sounded so formal: I half expected him to bow and conjure a hat from thin air just to take it off and hold it to his breast while he talked. 'Say, would you like some company at lunch? I, too, am new here and haven't yet acquired any acquaintances worth keeping. Of course you can object, but I may end up dining at your table nevertheless.' He smiled as he waited for my answer.

I was stunned, that was for sure. I had never heard anyone talk in a manner like that other then Carlisle, who I was, at present, teaching to talk like a proper American – not the American teenager talk, just so he didn't stand out from the crowd more than he already did.

'Um, sure,' I said at last, just as he was beginning to get slightly impatient. I was trying to work out whether he was just joking around with the polite front, but on a second inspection of his thoughts, I found that he did indeed speak and think in that manner.

_His parents must old fashioned, _was my conclusion, but that didn't keep me from speculating all the way down to the cafeteria. Mark kept up a light conversation, telling me a little about himself and then asking me a few questions of his own. The conversation lasted all the way through the queue at the counter – although I didn't buy anything, I just did it to be polite. He bought a bagel and a soda, which he started to eat as soon as we sat down at a vacant table.

_Well, that rules out the vampire theory, _I thought. I hadn't really considered it, but it would have explained the way of talking that came from a previous century.

I didn't know how to explain it, but his company made me uneasy. Politely excusing myself with 'sorry, I left my lunch in my locker,' I escaped. I kept up a normal, human pace until I reached the doors. In the almost deserted corridor I sped up. I got to my locker and quickly turned the tiles to the right numbers, almost breaking the lock in my haste.

I plunged my hand into the mess within my satchel to retrieve my phone and was dialling my mother's number before I had thought the action through.

_Honey? Is everything alright?_ Mom asked by way of greeting.

I hesitated. That was enough to set her into full mother mode.

_Oh, no, honey, tell me what's happened._

'No, Mom, I'm fine, I promise,' I assured her. 'It's just that there's this guy.'

_A guy, huh? _She sounded amused.

'Not in the way that you think.'

_Oh, really? I didn't think that you could read minds over long distances._

'Ha, ha, very funny. But I'm serious, this guy is really… weird,' I said, as my mind conjured up a picture of Mark.

_How so?_

'Well, for one thing, he speaks like Carlisle; he talks like he's from the eighteenth century.'

_Is he a vampire? _she asked, her tone abruptly turning to one of curiosity, but I could hear the unease behind the charade.

'I don't know. I don't think so because when he first came up to speak to me before lunch, he shook my hand and it wasn't cold or hard. And he was eating a bagel in the cafeteria a minute ago. It's just that he makes me feel… edgy.' I didn't know why I was telling Mom all of this, worrying her to the nth degree for no reason.

_Well, honey, what about his aura? Have you checked it?_

'No, I haven't.'

_Well, that's usually an easy solution to finding out what exactly people are._

'Ok, ok, I know. I hadn't thought of that,' I admitted.

_Ok, honey. Will you be alright for the rest of the day? _A panicky tone entered her voice, the type that accompanied motherhood and emerged in every tense situation that the child went through.

'Mom, I'll be fine,' I said in my most soothing voice. 'I'll see you when I get home.'

_Ok, honey, if you're sure. Have a good afternoon. I love you._

'Yes, Mom. Love you. Bye.'

I closed the phone before my shaky voice could give me away any further. I placed my phone back in my bag and turned to slump on the locker next to mine.

'Hey, I had been beginning to wonder where you had disappeared to.'

I gasped as I realised I was not alone; Mark stood next to my open locker door, a slight smile playing on his lips, threatening to turn into a smug grin. How did he manage to keep sneaking up on me? Me of all people – me who has the best hearing in the school? I gaped at him as his smile grew wider.

'I thought you had abandoned me for a moment.'

'I-I-I was j-just getting my lunch,' I improvised, reaching into my locker to retrieve the paper bag Dad had included all my favourites in this morning. Unfortunately, I had lost my appetite.

'And you got a call from your mother,' he stated. It wasn't a question.

Oh no. He wasn't exactly right, but he wasn't far off the mark either. No pun intended.

'Ah, yeah. How long have you been standing there?' I asked, my voice rising just a little.

'Oh, I only heard your farewell. I promise I was not eavesdropping. I am not that rude.' He turned his head and stared at a small group of girls a couple of lockers along that were gazing in our direction and whispering behind their hands. As soon as they were caught, they turned away giggling but did not leave. Mark continued to look in their direction.

I relaxed slightly as his thoughts confirmed his words. But that still didn't explain how he could take me by surprise like that.

I thought this the best time to extract his aura from the air around him. I had to concentrate which wasn't easy given the environment I was situated in; the thoughts and voices of the girls down the hall gushed through my head, as well as the babble I could hear coming from the cafeteria. I stared into Marks blue eyes as he continued to gaze at the girls. He looked at them in a way that seemed as though he, too, was concentrating very hard.

I succeeded. After ten seconds of undivided focus, I managed to conjure a fine, colourful mist from his being. I stared in amazement as the mist wafted lazily around his figure, trying to decipher the meaning of the colours I had spent years learning to understand.

The inner layer, closest to the body, was what I used to discern ones mood: the darker it was, the grumpier and unattractive they were to be around; the lighter the colour, the more joyous and jubilant they became. Whenever I was concentrating on these, Jasper thought it funny to mess with their moods so I could never be sure whether I was seeing their true vibes.

The outer layer was always in gray scale; white for humans and black for vampires and werewolves. Mom is grey for half beings.

But Mark was totally different. His inner layer was nothing out of the ordinary (a light-ish yellow verging on green) but his outer layer was completely unexpected; gold. The only other time I had ever seen such a colour was when I had been testing my power out on myself in the mirror. I had been horrified but had blown it off by saying that the mirror had been messing it up (I hadn't been able to see it when I had looked at my body).

Mark turned back to me, and upon seeing my gaze, his face took on an expression of confusion.

'I'm sorry, is there something on my face?' he asked, rubbing at his chin. I couldn't answer; all I could do was stare. I was sure my mouth was gaping open, but I couldn't find the right muscles to shut it.

The aura was beginning to fade, taking with it some of my surprise. I recovered enough to close my mouth at least. Mark was starting to get uncomfortable and questioning himself about why I was acting so strangely.

The bell rang, pushing me completely into reality with a thump. I blinked twice in quick succession before I spun to my open locker to extract my History notebook. I closed my locker and hurried away from Mark and around the corner to find my way to the Economics section without a backward glance.

Marks thoughts were a mess. He was attempting to figure out what had upset me and whether he been the cause of my hasty retreat. He was still speculating when I arrived at my classroom.

History was another slow event. I had already graduated through History twice; therefore I was quite confident to call myself a professional. The lesson was made a whole lot worse because of the teacher; she droned through her lecture in a monotone. By the end, I found my eyelids drooping; I actually heard someone snore quietly and watched them dream that they were in a boat in the middle of the ocean, rocking gently with the waves.

After History was Gym. Everyone was out of their seats before the bell had a chance to ring. Gym wasn't my favourite subject, but it had to be better than being put to sleep by Mrs. Sydney.

The gym was on the other side of the school. I wove my way through all the bustling bodies, careful not to touch anyone with my exposed skin.

Mrs. Cassandra, a woman in her mid-twenties with a well built figure, bleached blonde hair and tanned skin, greeted us warmly at the door before letting us inside to get changed.

Today, we were playing badminton. I was relieved that I wasn't forced to run around a track for running at a human speed practically killed me. It was just way too slow!

I made my way out of the change rooms after the rest of the girls. For badminton we were required to divide into pairs. Luckily, the teacher decided we were incapable of finding a suitable partner, so she made the pairs herself. But first she had us sit down so she could explain the rules.

That was when I saw him; Mark was sitting among the boys chatting animatedly with one of his peers who gaped at his strange, formal speech. Mrs. Cassandra called the class to order and cut Mark's speech short.

I stared at Mark during Mrs. Cassandras rules, concentrating again so that his aura would appear. It was the wrong thing to do: I hadn't seen wrongly at lunch; it was definitely gold.

'Now, Amethyst is it?' Mrs. Cassandra asked, handing me a racket. I hadn't realized that she had moved onto making the teams.

'Ah, yes, Miss,' I answered quietly, suddenly apprehensive about her choice of my suitable partner.

'Hmmm. You and Mark Driscoll should make a good team. You're over on court three.'

Oh no.

'Hello again, Amethyst. I am greatly sorry if I troubled you at recess.'

'Y-y-you d-didn't d-do a-anything,' I stuttered, as we walked across the gym to court three. We would be playing a team that also consisted of a girl and a guy. I recognised the latter as being the boy who had received the detention in Maths. He looked marginally better tempered with the incident in the classroom forgotten. It didn't seem like Badminton was his favourite sport but he was glad to be out of the classroom.

The girl on the other hand wasn't at all keen on Gym. She fretted that running around would mess up her hair-do, and brandishing a racket to hit a flying object might break one of her nails. She intended to leave most of the work to her team mate.

Mark was still looking puzzled and again tried in vain to figure out what he had done to upset me. Something in my expression also triggered another thought; was I scared of him? As he pondered, he was silent, half staring at me, half staring into space.

Mrs. Cassandra walked down the row of courts then, handing every team a shuttle.

'Alright,' she called across the room, 'man your positions… and start!'

I had no idea how to play; I had been slightly preoccupied during the explanation. The boy on the opposing team delivered the shuttle with precision, sending it flying into the only vacant space on our court. Mark was quick on his feet and darted to hit the shuttle back over the net with accuracy to surpass the boy's. The other team stood transfixed as they watched Mark move – as did I. He had such fluidity in his movements; it was like he had the consistency of no more than water. He never made a noise either; no squeak of his shoes on the wood patterned linoleum, not even a soft thunk as his racket connected with the shuttle.

The shuttle landed in the other court as the other team made no move to reach it.

'Yes, a point to us!' Mark exclaimed, trying but not quite succeeding in hiding the fact that he noticed the stares. The corners of his mouth pulled down and his brows furrowed when no one retrieved the shuttle to start the next round.

_Oh darn, _he thought, but he didn't elaborate.

'Come on court three!' Mrs. Cassandra yelled from the opposite side of the gym. 'You need to play to receive your marks!'

The boy sobered up first and bent down to pick up the shuttle that had rolled to rest at his feet.

For the rest of the lesson, Mark made no more hasty movements to get the shuttle; instead he stood mostly in one spot, only lashing out when the shuttle was near to him. That left me to do most of the work. The first time I ran to hit the shuttle, I received the same treatment as Mark, and it was only when Mark called 'are we to play or not?' did anyone even move. After that, Mark seemed to realize that, like him, I was also different.

The bell rang just as everyone was starting to get fed up with the never ending, pointless game. I handed my racket back to Mrs. Cassandra and headed for the door, happy that it was finally time for me to go home. I reclaimed my bag from my locker and was just making my way through the crowd of joyous students when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

'Could we talk?' a voice asked in my ear: Mark.

I recoiled from his touch as though he had hit me or uttered a foul word. Then I caught sight of his expression; he looked pleading.

'Ok,' I breathed, suddenly winded. I had counted on being able to talk to Carlisle before I faced this, if I ever had to. I followed Mark silently as he led me outside, across the parking lot and out onto the side walk.

That was when I found my voice. 'Where are you taking me?' I almost demanded, finally finding a hint of bravery in myself.

_About time, _I thought.

'Not far, just far enough away that there will be no danger of being overheard,' he answered, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that we weren't being followed.

As he had said, he led me only a little way further to a park void of any soul, and in my opinion, still was. Mark turned to face me with a strange expression; sort of a mixture of triumph and despair.

'I believe I have uncovered why you are so upset.' He paused as if waiting for me to say something, but I stayed quiet; I got everything I needed from his thoughts. 'Is it not because you have discovered that I am different, as I have of you?'

I'd expected this but was still unwilling to answer.

'Yes,' I all but whispered after a heavy silence.

'Ah, I knew I was right, but if you don't mind my asking, what tipped you off?'

Boy, did I have a long list for him!

'Well,' I started, relieved to find that my courage still seemed to be intact, 'first, you speak like you are from the eighteen century; you move with an unnatural grace that makes surrounding humans look like their falling over their feet; you are abnormally beautiful; you never make a sound when you move. Would you like me to go on?' I purposefully left out the colour of his aura not wanting to attract attention to myself just yet.

Mark seemed lost for words. I waited for him to order his thoughts with my arms crossed over my chest.

'No, no, I get the picture,' he answered at last.

I was determined to get to the bottom of this, so I ended the silence with 'Now, if you don't mind _my _asking, what exactly are you, since you are so obviously something beyond human with some traits of a vampire but not all?'

He paused but then decided there was no way around answering the question.

'Both of my parents are half vampire,' he replied, gazing at his shoe laces. He seemed to be embarrassed by his parentage.

'Oh,' was all I managed.

So that was why he had a golden aura; just like me he was one more than a half being. It seemed that creations – for lack of a more suitable word – with more than two life forms mixed into their genes created a golden glow instead of the white, grey or black.

He looked up after a minute having expected me to say more.

'I didn't know half vampires were so common,' I said after a moment, walking over to a bench and sitting down, putting my head in my hands. Today felt like it had lasted forever, and it still wasn't over.

Mark followed me over to the bench but did not sit.

'I was born in 1789. You were correct in guessing the background of my speech. This is the first time that I have ever been to school. I thought that it might be… amusing to blend with the local adolescents, to come to grips with the modern world and try to fit in. My normal lifestyle is more like that of a nomad. I keep mostly to the fringes of society, mingling with humans only when self sanitation demands. I left my parents at the age of seven but the maturity of a grown man to roam the earth and explore. But a lifestyle of such monotony can get quite tedious after spending a couple of centuries in that way of life. And so that's how I ended up here.'

There was another minute of silence, with only the sound of the wind for company. Well, for a normal, sane person/vampire it would have been silent, but for me it was quite distracting with the amount of noise Mark's thoughts produced as he contemplated how best to ask what I was. The sound was like a fog horn blaring in the night. Ok, that was a slight exaggeration, but it was disrupting my own train of thought as it rattled off on a strange track, one with fog obscuring my line of sight.

Mark's thoughts were getting more and more disturbing as they became somewhat urgent. I sighed, resigned.

'Ok, Mark, if you really must know, my father is a werewolf, and my mother is half vampire.'

I waited as Mark's astonishment took over the control of his body and mind. It took him quite some time to regain management of his thoughts and longer still to order them.

'What traits do you have of each… species?' he asked hesitantly, not wanting to insult me.

I inhaled deeply before answering. I had expected this without the aid of his thoughts.

'I am immortal, I can drink blood but prefer not to; it doesn't have quite the same appeal to me as it does to everyone else. I have the cold, hard skin, the beauty and grace, I am faster even than my grandfather who is the fastest pure vampire that I have met, I am also stronger. I have the eyesight, hearing and keen sense of smell to equal any vampire, or werewolf. I can transform to my wolf form at will, too... But I eat and sleep just like any other human does. Though, also like a vampire, I inherited skills beyond the norm; I can hear thoughts and see the auras of those around me.' I paused, slightly angry at myself for giving away all the secrets of my existence. I felt strangely relaxed in his presence, as though he too had Jasper's mood control gift. And for all I knew, he could be a Volturi spy or something. So for good measure I added, 'You won't tell anyone though, will you?'

He recovered enough to answer, 'Of course not,' before retreating back into his reverie.

I waited patiently – for me anyway – whilst he thought things through.

'So… hmmm… so you are faster than even vampires? That must be… reasonably fast.'

'You have no idea,' I answered, a smile spreading across my face.

Then I moved swiftly to stand beside him, so quick that he never saw me stir – even with his enhanced vampire vision. His eyes widened as he suddenly found the once vacant space beside him occupied.

And then he, too, vanished from my sight – my superior werewolf/vampire sight. He appeared on one of the swings of the playground about a hundred feet away less than a millisecond later. I gaped at him as the smile that had been displayed on my face a second ago grew across his features.

I recovered and ran to sit on the swing beside him.

'Apparently, I'm not the only one with speed.' I mumbled, somewhat annoyed that someone else had acquired my skill. 'Tell me, what other vampire and human traits do you possess?'

'Well, for a start, I guess I'm fast,' he began, turning his smile on me, 'I have better eyesight than most vampires, and I'm graceful. I've never thought of myself as pleasing to the eye, but after mingling with the students at the school I guess I must be from the reactions I received when I introduced myself. I can move without alerting even vampire ears. But I have a beating heart, a requirement of oxygen for survival, the skin of a human and the immune system of one. I have no appetite for blood unless I hand myself over to my vampire instincts and even then I find it does me no justice in the way of taste.'

He also added an afterthought in his mind which I hadn't been meant to hear.

'And you have a gift,' I said quietly, waiting to see how he would react to my hearing his thoughts. Apparently he had forgotten that particular power of my own.

'Ah, yes,' he said almost guiltily, dropping his gaze from my face. 'I can manipulate people's actions, thoughts and emotions. I can make anyone do, feel, say, or think whatever I wish them to. I tend not to use this certain power unless I am in desperation; I feel like I violate their 'space' when I use it to control them.'

'But you don't use that unless in times of need, I can see that,' I reassured him as he worried that he had let slip too much.

We were quiet for a moment, running over the new information we had each received. And then my phone buzzed. The caller ID displayed MOM in iridescent, green light. I flipped it open to see what she wanted.

'Hi, Mom.'

_Hi, darling, I was just wondering where you were, s_he said, feigning a casual tone that betrayed her worry.

'I just thought I would take the chance to look around and see the place,' I quickly lied. I hated fibbing, but it was for her own good – and her nerves that had already been stretched far enough for one day.

_Well, ok, honey, but don't be too long. And could you get a bottle of milk and bread on your way?_

'Yes, Mom. Love you.' I shut the phone and returned it to my bag.

'Sorry,' I added to Mark.

'No, no, that's perfectly ok. You should get home; your mother's worried about you. Sorry, I couldn't help listening,' he tagged on, as he realized his mistake.

'That's fine,' I said, standing from my seat on the swing. 'But you're probably right, I should get home to placate my Mom before she personally hunts me down and drags me back to the house.'

Mark laughed and followed suit before walking with me back to the almost vacant lot. I scooped my keys out from the bottom of my bag and pushed the button to which my car responded with two sharp beeps and corresponding flashes of its indicators.

Mark got to the car before I did and held the door open for me true gentleman style. I climbed into my new four wheel drive purchased only for the school trips, deposited my bag on the passenger seat and turned back to Mark.

'So, where does this leave us?' I asked. 'Are we friends?'

'I guess that would be an appropriate term… Yes, we are friends,' he replied, smiling slightly before shutting the door behind me and strolling over to his car, a sleek black PT Cruiser.

I watched him in my rear view mirror until his figure disappeared from sight. I drove home in a daze, hardly paying attention to which side of the road I was permitted to be on. Mark was confounding but at the same time, I was intrigued. If I had to be honest to myself, I couldn't wait for what tomorrow had in store – just as long as it didn't hold as many surprises as today had uncovered. It had definitely been a long and confusing day. One thing was for sure; I was glad it was over.


End file.
